10 CO.MMON BIRDS OF THE YANGTZE DELTA. 



wagtails very much alike in colouring but the one usually 

 seen is the streakeyed wagtail, {Motacilla ocularis) tseu 

 ping tiao or "walk ice bird." He is a neat grey and white 

 bird with a black crown, bib, and central tail feathers, and a 

 dark line through the eye, from which he is named. The 

 amount of black in all the wagtails varies very much with the 

 season, largely increasing in the summer, but this particular 

 bird always keeps his grey shoulders, whilst the others he 

 closely resembles do not. Another branch of the family not 

 often seen are yellow underneath instead of white. 



The wagtails have a family trait of nervousness which 

 makes them bob their tails constantly when on the ground, 

 usually accompanying each "bob" with their characteristic 

 call note, a short "tseek." When flushed they go bounding 

 off through the air with a graceful undulating flight calling 

 "tseeker", "tseeker", at each bound. 



During the winter months, almost any time we go into 

 the open fields, little mottled greyish brown birds will spring 

 up from the ground in front of us and bound off, announcing 

 their names as they go, "pipit-pipit-pipit." There are two of 

 them, rather difficftlt to distinguish at first sight, except that 

 one is largely solitary, and the other usually is found in small 

 flocks. The flocks are the Japanese pipit or the Eastern 

 water pipit (Anthiis Japoniciis); they are generally much 

 darker in colouring, and the breast is thickly spotted with 

 black. The single birds are the grey pipits or Blakiston's 

 water pipit {Anthiis blakistoni); they are generally much 

 lighter in colour and their breasts rather faintly spotted. 

 They are also slightly larger. Care must be taken not to 

 confuse the grey pipits with the skylarks, which flock to 

 the fields in the winter; but if we will only notice the pipit 

 he will almost always announce himself as he rises. 



To know the skylark {Alauda arvensis) you must 

 go to see him in his summer home. Do not accept the 

 song of the poor caged individuals which the Chinese keep; 

 they are a travesty of the real bird. He is nothing much 

 to look at — just a mixture of greys and browns and huffy 

 white, that blends perfectly with parched grass once he 

 drops to the ground. But how he can sing when he gets 

 up into the free air! I will not attempt to describe it, even 

 Shelley failed to do him justice. On any dry grassy slope, 

 especially at the foot of the hills, any day, rain or shine, 

 from March to June you will find him singing. Springing 

 from the ground with a burst of song, he flutters straight up 

 and up into the clouds until barely visible, all the while 

 pouring out a wonderful volume of the sweetest of music. 

 After five, ten, or even fifteen minutes of uninterrupted 

 song, down he will come still singing, usually taking the 



